name

I tell him blue

He says 

MAZONDE

As if it feels heavier,

He has no idea

It's not his fault live MAZONDE

but this

This man

Why can't he see it?

He is perfect. 

What is worth it?

French Twist

At your Madi's place,

Overlooking the seventh 

The tower our neighbor and the 

Parquet floor of God

I lied

I smoked on the balcony

When you went to buy bread.

lately

Twice

I have bought

A bubbly champagne bottle 

To celebrate

Our MADAM 

President.

Twice

I have drank it the

Next morning

In

Tears. 

boom

I will blow up my life

Because fuck this

If I get this job, ok-

If I don't- fuck this. 

Who knew 

Human rights

And humanitarian work

Would be some of

The most sexist

And unempathetic 

Jobs in the fucking world.

kenya

I can hear the yells 

And smell the teargas

From my hotel room-

It's almost like the 4th of July.

My body aches

From this,

I am ready for the next 

Chapter. 

Moo

 My mom loved southern rock

But hated the south

She fell in love with my dad-

An undercover Yankee

Looking like a country boy

Born in Philadelphia, PA.

My mother hates the south.

(Her children are southern)

Shhhhhh

Don't tell her that

war and beatles

 I'm folding clothes and towels into a nondescript bag-

I'm thinking about my niece- 

I just gave her, "Are you There, God, It's me, Margaret." 

She is learning about becoming a woman

while I'm entrenched in war

and human rights abuses of the highest sort. 

Nosibah misses her mother. She never knew when she left for vacation that she would not return to her home. 

People in America joke about war

War is not pretty

It is ugly, and animal, and so beyond comprehension-

I told my boss

"I don't think I can work in war zones anymore"

and I feel GUILTY

Who champions human rights but doesn't fight in a war for them?

Me, i guess. 

Tracy rings out from the radio, saying

you got a fast car

Is it fast enough so we can fly away?
We gotta make a decision
Leave tonight or live and die this way

And I pull over on the streets of Atlanta because all I can think of are the refugees, and i weep.

My stupid white tears,

Now I pray at the altar of Let It Be

trying to repeat it... trying to learn...

let it be, let it be, let it be, let it be

 

Haiti

Haiti right now is
clean, slippery floors,
cheek pressed kisses and
everything upstairs. A guesthouse
that is my own,
permanent hotel living.

Haiti is puffs of smoke and
charcoal stoves, sips of
rum and bottles of bleach. Haiti is
nothing, yet. Need more seconds, more
steps forward and over.

My heart
hurts
still.
Will it ever stop? Will
Haiti....

will Haiti...

I don't know.
To do:
Learn Kreole,
then
fix heart.

crystal ball 2017

Hispaniola

Ryswick

look closer

coffee, cotton and...

sugar?
yes, sugar.

needs and salt water

mountain tops

cruise

what's that?

babies. babies everywhere.

manipulation

I don’t get why you think I don’t understand you as a person. I know who you are. I have spent the last 2 years being in love with you, something that I do not take for granted. You have been of tremendous help to my head and my heart, and I am grateful for every single second of love that I have felt since I met you, and all the love that you have given me during our time together. You say you don’t even know who I am anymore, but you know who I am. I am the same man that you fell in love with. The same man that ate macaroons and played ukulele for you in the park. The same man that held, kissed, and drank champagne with you in the pool. The same man that made love to you seven times in one day in the “drug den” and ate mussels with you while listening to Mac DeMarco. The same man that would tell you how you beautiful you looked every time he saw you. The same man that dry humped you at Kroger when no one was looking. The same man that swam with you in Santa Marta and ate arepas de huevo. The same man that visited you in Morocco, ate msemen, and celebrated eid-al-fitr in a tarbouche and djellaba. The same man that celebrate new year’s eve with you in Paris and ate steak frites and escargot with you. The same man that took bubble baths with you and cuddled you in bed even though you were soaking wet. The same man that wants to be your husband, and the father of your children. 

The same man that broke your heart. And then same man that will stitch your heart back up and make you the happiest woman in the world.

you said
everything in your life
was happy;
everything
except for me

so i assume
everything
is perfect, now.

wonder

i wonder when i will start to look old
when my face will look like the skin on old pudding
and i'll look back at pictures of sunburt Morocco
and think
how young i was then!

i wonder when the letter will come
that tells me what is coming next
when that breeze will blow by
and take me floating off on it

i wonder when i will stop thinking of him
stop hating him
stop thinking at all
until i see pictures of violet Colombia
and think
how dumb i was then!

i wonder when the
spining will starve
and the trees will stop rustling
and the roosters crow softer

in between
all the time
and a little bit behind

A boy I knew once

I will love
you
a little less
each day

Until I
don't love you
At All
anymore.

Run away

Morocco

can't come soon

enough.

X.

Infatuation

I will
start by kissing
each finger tip,
each knuckle,

both palms and each thumb

I will kiss your
earlobes,
soft,
the nape of your neck

Your cheeks, your nose,
the funny bald spot in your beard.

I will kiss your
knees
your elbows,
your perfect
long thighs.

Your tummy
gets extra special attention:
tickles my nose,
my lips drag and
nibble.

I will
kiss and kiss and kiss you;
I will kiss you
until kisses seem
meaningless like a
long repeated word,
then I will kiss you
More.

to my father

if she loved you
she wouldn't
drink with you.

if you loved her
you wouldn't
have to drink
to be with her.

Spring and this

Everything inside me screams idon'twantaboyfriend

but when I think of your soft mouth and your strong arms
it takes all
my power
to keep from
pulling back my foot (half out the door,)
calling in foreversick to work
and crawling into
your bedandsmile.

but I know:
spring
and this
can't last forever.

Cubicle life

6:00 alarms buzzzzzzz
Buzzzz
Buzzz

7:00 in the car/ npr/ life goes on outside this: airplanes, landslides. Traffic lights.

8:00 arrivee', loopety loop parking garage bigger than the mcmansions I pass.

8:30 third bad office espresso, though I am wide awake: more to suppress hunger for food and a better life.

-work, type, clackclackclack, fyi, see note, work-

1:30 devour my carefully constructed salad and read the entire internet.

3:00 can I grab you for a quick meeting?

-work, clackclack, rinnnnnng, quarantine summary 0, howwasyourweekend whatareyourplansfortheweekend, work-

4:50 stare at the clock.

Tick tock

Tick
Tick

Tick
Tock

Tock

5:00 go to the gym/ run for three miles while staying in exactly the same spot: realize this is a metaphor for my life

6:00 in the car/npr/ life has gone on around me: healthcare, russia. Traffic lights.

Crush.

I am
Blushing
And flush
With thoughts
Of your
Handsome face &
Big hands:

I want
To climb
You
Like a magnolia tree.

he

his heart is made
of marshmallow fluff and
bundles of old disposable razors

he is
tall,
but the
kind of tall that is
noticeable from a distance,
like a politician
or a sitcom father.

and on the
sunniest day
of the whole
long, icy winter
he drove her
out
to the path
under the canopy
of bare Tennessee pines,
kissed her neck-
softly-
and grabbed her waist-
not softly-

breathe in and out
rustle on the leaves
feel the air 
             on faces and fingertips

he smells like clove and honey.

devoured

he stared
at me
all night
like
a five course dinner
after a month
lost at
sea

and when he pushed
me up
against
my car
and kissed me
hard and
sweet,
i couldn't
wait
to be
devoured.